The works of John Dryden, now first collected in eighteen volumes. Volume 06

In Short

This volume gathers three of the most provocative plays of the Restoration period: the biting satire Limberham, or the Kind Keeper, the grand, classically inspired OEdipus, and the complex, revisionist tragedy Troilus and Cressida. Alongside these, the book includes critical essays where the author defends his dramaturgical choices against contemporary rivals. These works reveal a writer navigating the precarious waters of court politics and public taste, using the stage to expose the hypocrisies of the city and the court alike. They have endured as essential records of a voice that mastered both the ribald comedy and the high, formal tragedy.

The Story

The volume opens with Limberham, a comedy that exposes the absurdity of illicit domestic arrangements. It centers on the gullible Limberham and his mistress, Tricksy, a woman of sharp wit who maneuvers through a web of deception involving various suitors and false identities. The play serves as a scathing mirror to the "loose" manners of the age, where the pursuit of pleasure often collides with the vanity of powerful men.

Transitioning from the domestic sphere, OEdipus elevates the reader to the heights of mythic catastrophe. Here, the narrative tracks the inexorable fall of the Theban king. Haunted by dreams and plagued by the enigmatic pronouncements of the gods, OEdipus attempts to defy his fate, only to be drawn deeper into the tragic realization of his own history. His struggle with the weight of destiny—and his desperate, doomed love for Jocasta—is presented with a dark intensity that pushes the audience toward the purgation of pity and fear.

The volume then shifts to the siege of Troy in Troilus and Cressida. This is not merely a retelling of the Homeric conflict, but a meditation on the corruption of war and the fragility of honor. The story arcs through the courtly politics of the Trojans and the weary, cynical machinations of the Greeks. As Troilus clings to his idealized vision of Cressida, the surrounding violence of the camp and the manipulations of characters like Thersites erode the romantic illusion. The drama concludes in a flurry of martial desperation, where the characters find themselves caught in forces far greater than their personal loyalties or desires, leaving the reader with a bleak, powerful meditation on human failure amidst the ruins of greatness.

How It Unfolds

The social critique The volume begins with an exploration of domestic deception in Limberham, where the folly of "keeping" mistresses is laid bare through farce and personal satire. The narrative rhythm is quick and irreverent, mocking the self-importance of men who believe they can purchase devotion.

The descent of the king The tone shifts dramatically to the high stakes of OEdipus, where the protagonist moves from the confident savior of Thebes to a man unraveling under the pressure of divine prophecy. Each act narrows the distance between the king and his terrible, hidden truth.

The mechanics of tragedy Interspersed with the plays are formal essays that argue for the necessity of a single, coherent action in tragedy. These critical reflections explain how the author intends to provoke emotional clarity by focusing the audience's attention on a singular, inevitable downfall.

The corruption of valor In the final drama, Troilus and Cressida, the action moves from the intimate sorrows of the lovers to the chaotic, demoralizing grind of the Trojan War. The structure emphasizes the disconnect between the heroic ideals the characters proclaim and the grim, cynical reality they inhabit.

The final reckoning The volume ends with the brutal dissolution of the Trojan hope, where the characters’ personal desires are sacrificed to the machinery of an endless conflict. The resolution offers no easy comfort, reflecting a world where the gods remain silent while men tear one another apart.

The People

Limberham is the quintessential dupe—an aging, vain man who mistakes his mistress’s manipulation for genuine affection. His blindness to the world around him is the engine of the play’s comedy. In contrast, Tricksy is the master of her own limited domain, navigating the social traps of the Restoration with a cool, detached pragmatism.

OEdipus stands as a titan of moral struggle, defined by his intellectual pride and his eventual, crushing vulnerability. His counterpart, Creon, provides a stark, dark reflection of ambition, representing the "crooked" soul that hides behind a deformed body. Their conflict is not just political, but existential, as they wrestle with the nature of heroism and the cruelty of the fates.

Torrismond and the Queen in the later included works embody the conflict between desire and duty. They are both caught in the gravitational pull of a throne, their personal happiness constantly sacrificed to the political stability of the realm. Throughout these works, the author populates his stage with figures who are frequently "sotted" by love or hardened by power, each forced to reckon with their own nature in moments of profound crisis.

In Its Own Voice

Describing the harsh, inescapable nature of his own tragic condition, OEdipus laments:

"Fly, wretch, whom fate has doomed thy father's blood to spill, And with preposterous births thy mother's womb to fill!"

Offering a cynical, biting view of his own role in the war, Thersites rails against the futility of the heroic age:

"Thou stump of man, thou worn-out broom, thou lumber!"

Reflecting on the complex nature of human desire and the irony of his romantic plight, Troilus confesses:

"Troil. Cressid, I love thee with so strange a purity, That the blest gods, angry with my devotions, More bright in zeal than that I pay their altars, Will take thee from my sight."

What It's Really About

These plays grapple with the tension between individual agency and the crushing weight of external forces—whether those forces are the decrees of the gods, the demands of the state, or the social conventions of a "loose" age. The central argument is that human beings are often the architects of their own misery, blinded by vanity or passion. The works question whether virtue can survive in a world where power dictates morality and where the "heroic" often disguises a darker, more selfish impulse. It is an exploration of how we construct meaning when we are, in the end, only "less than man" or "more than man" in the eyes of an indifferent universe.

Why Read It Today

Readers who appreciate the dense, muscular prose of the late seventeenth century will find much to admire here. This volume offers an intimate look at the transition between the high, formal style of classical tragedy and the cynical, biting satire that would define the era. Reading these plays feels like stepping into a crowded, dimly lit playhouse where the dialogue is as sharp as a blade and the moral stakes are impossibly high.

The difficulties are real: the allusions are often dense, and the attitudes toward gender and class are unapologetically of their time. The dialogue, particularly in the satires, can be bawdy and difficult to parse for a modern ear. However, the reward is an unparalleled view into a mind that is constantly wrestling with the purpose of literature. You will find yourself lingering on the author’s bold prefaces, where he argues with his critics with a vigor and clarity that feels strikingly contemporary. It is a demanding, at times abrasive, but ultimately deeply rewarding collection. For those interested in the architecture of drama and the sharp, unforgiving wit of a master of the English language, this volume remains an essential, if challenging, historical document that refuses to be ignored.